Chen Youzai clasped the silver coin tightly in his hand and slowly closed his eyes. Only when his heart had settled into stillness would he return once more.
Mom… forgive me. I may have to leave again, for quite some time. But I think… during that time, perhaps your heart will feel a little more at ease.
Xi… I miss you. More than I have ever missed anything before. Can you feel it? If I were to stand before you again… would you recognize that it is me?
“Xueshi!”
The Third Prince jolted awake as if he had heard a faint murmur. He found himself still seated upon the long bench.
Mu Xueshi… I ordered him buried alive…
The thought struck him like a blade.
He turned his head slightly. The teacup at his side had long gone cold. Tea leaves floated in the water, layered and unfurled—evidence of having steeped for far too long.
More than an hour had passed.
He stared blankly outside. The morning sky, once clear, had darkened without his notice. Rain had begun to fall again, draping the world in a dim veil.
Suddenly—
A violent noise burst from the doorway.
Before the attendants could react, the Third Prince had already dashed out, rushing toward the Linhan Palace.
An hour earlier, that very place had borne witness to a clash of life and death.
Su Ruhan escorted Mu Xueshi step by step toward the cold palace grounds. Along the way, countless schemes to save him—and even to save the Third Prince—had arisen in his mind.
Yet each one was silenced by the same unyielding words from Mu Xueshi:
“If you still possess even a trace of compassion, then grant me death.”
“You know this—if His Highness orders my execution today, only I will die. But if you keep me alive… then two will perish in the end.”
…
When they reached the grave, Su Ruhan paused briefly, then lowered his voice and commanded the soldiers behind him:
“Dig it up.”
A faint smile appeared upon Mu Xueshi’s face.
From life to death, only a handful had ever seen his true countenance. Even now, standing before his own grave, he was not permitted to remove the mask.
Before long, the grave was opened. Su Ruhan stood transfixed, staring at the white jade coffin within. For a moment, he felt as though he could not breathe.
In the next instant—
Every soldier present fell beneath his blade.
With a small vial in hand, Su Ruhan dabbed a clear liquid onto his fingers.
“By His Highness’s order, you may enter the earth with your true face.”
“As you wish,” Mu Xueshi replied softly.
Slowly, Su Ruhan removed the thin mask.
Beneath it was a face of peerless beauty.
Had such a visage been painted and spread among the common folk, countless hearts would mourn the fall of such a celestial being.
Sensing his hesitation, Mu Xueshi smiled faintly—and leapt into the grave himself.
Seated within the pit, he looked almost at ease. Tilting his head slightly, he gazed up at Su Ruhan, as though urging him to act swiftly.
Su Ruhan drew in a breath, circulating his inner force.
He knew all too well—
With but a flick of his power, the earth above Mu Xueshi would collapse and bury him entirely, leaving no trace of disturbance.
With a single move… within moments, Mu Xueshi would be beyond salvation.
Yet he waited.
Waited for the faintest chance—that perhaps the Third Prince would come, or that someone might arrive with new orders.
But from beginning to end—
Not a single shadow appeared.
At last, Su Ruhan gathered his strength, channeling it slowly into his hands, watching as Mu Xueshi’s face blurred before his eyes.
Then suddenly—
His inner force faltered.
It was as though something had sealed it completely.
He tried again—yet it would not move.
His heart tightened. He staggered back several steps before steadying his breathing.
When he looked up—
A woman in white stood before him.
“Yue Lingchai. Had you not appeared in this courtyard time and again, I might never have known you still walked this world,” Su Ruhan said, the corners of his lips lifting faintly.
At first, Yue Lingchai had not recognized him. But after studying him for a moment, she let out a soft laugh.
“So it’s you. My nephew’s little courtyard truly hides dragons and crouching tigers.”
Su Ruhan frowned. “Nephew?”
Her long white robes fluttered like the wings of a butterfly as she descended lightly before him.
“Yes. Nephew. Mu Xueshi is my son.”
Su Ruhan’s figure trembled slightly, astonishment flickering across his face.
So many secrets lay hidden behind the Third Prince’s past.
And Mu Xueshi… was the son of the Grand Tutor Mu and the foremost heroine of the martial world, Yue Lingchai.
Yet upon reflection, who else but Yue Lingchai could have borne such a breathtaking son?
“What brings you here?” she asked, her tone unexpectedly casual.
“I serve as the Third Prince’s personal guard,” Su Ruhan replied plainly.
“What? You serve my nephew?”
“What else would I be doing?”
“I thought you had snuck in with ill intentions toward my son.” She shot him a glare—one that could unsettle any onlooker.
Su Ruhan let out a cold laugh. “I harbor no designs on your son. I merely intend for him to die.”
“Is it you who wants him dead—or the Third Prince?” Yue Lingchai’s voice grew cold.
“What difference does it make?” he countered.
“There is a difference,” she said, her eyes flashing. “It determines whether you die—or the Third Prince.”
“Neither of us will die,” Su Ruhan said with absolute certainty.
“That… depends on your ability.”
With that, she removed the jade hairpin from her hair. A cascade of dark locks fell like flowing clouds, reaching her thighs.
Su Ruhan gripped his sword, eyes fixed upon her. “Five years ago, we fought atop Wujing Peak—neither victor nor vanquished. You withdrew from the martial world thereafter. I never expected to meet you again here.”
“If not for your underhanded tricks back then, which crippled half my cultivation, would I have retreated for so many years?” she scoffed. “And would you have risen so easily to become the Martial Alliance Leader? Am I wrong… Feisha? Or perhaps… you no longer go by that name.”
“I used no such tricks,” Su Ruhan replied firmly.
“Enough,” she said. “If you were not plotting rebellion, why cultivate the Bloodthirst Sword? All under heaven know—it is the forbidden art of the demonic sect. Once mastered, one becomes a merciless fiend. And yet you lurk by my nephew’s side—what else could your purpose be?”
“I have served the Third Prince for over a decade. If you claim I harbor rebellion, then I must have begun plotting as a child.”
Yue Lingchai had no interest in further words.
With a flick of her wrist, her hairpin traced the air—instantly summoning a storm of force. The wind surged like crashing waves, clouds gathering as the heavens darkened.
In a heartbeat, Su Ruhan’s form was swallowed within her net of power.
He drew his sword.
Blade-light blossomed like drifting petals, seeking openings within her woven trap, striking again and again, dismantling it layer by layer. The sword danced with fluid grace—without flaw, without trace.
Their clash was a harmony of opposites—hard and soft, swift and measured.
Su Ruhan’s sword seemed light and elegant, yet each strike carried ruthless force. Yue Lingchai’s hairpin shone with crimson brilliance, darting through his blade formations with blinding speed, like gusts of celestial wind.
They exchanged over a hundred moves without resolution.
Neither showed fatigue.
As though they had not fought at all.
At last, Su Ruhan realized—if this continued, even until sunset, no victor would emerge.
In that moment of breath—
He suddenly remembered.
Mu Xueshi… still lies in the grave.
That fleeting distraction cost him dearly.
A flash of silver—
He was forced back three steps. His sleeve was shredded by the wind of her strike, drifting to the ground.
Yue Lingchai also recalled her son at that instant. Without hesitation, she turned and flew toward the grave.
Ignoring the pain in his arm, Su Ruhan followed.
“You dare harm my son? In your dreams!”
With a swift turn, she launched another attack.
He reacted instantly, raising the flat of his blade to block. Sparks burst from the clash.
They exchanged dozens more moves before finally arriving at the grave.
There—
Mu Xueshi lay quietly within, a faint smile upon his lips.
The sight halted Su Ruhan’s breath.
It also caused Yue Lingchai’s expression to shift.
“Xueshi!”
She reacted first, leaping down to lift him from the pit.
Su Ruhan reached out to test his breathing—but she struck his hand aside.
Unprepared, he staggered. When he looked down, his hand was already bruised and discolored.
Yue Lingchai pressed her hand against Mu Xueshi’s chest.
After a moment, she exhaled deeply.
“He’s not dead.”
“…Good,” Su Ruhan murmured, releasing a breath of his own.
“But why won’t he wake…?”
Hearing her mutter, he said, “Could it be… when we fought, the surrounding energies shifted too violently, and his body could not withstand it…?”
“You came to kill him, and now you show concern?” she said coldly. “It seems… this order came from my dear nephew.”
“No—His Highness also…” Su Ruhan faltered, unable to explain.
Suddenly—
Yue Lingchai’s gaze sharpened.
A chill ran through Su Ruhan’s heart.
He followed her line of sight.
Sure enough—
Not far away, the Third Prince stood in silence, his expression icy as he watched everything unfold.
Futile Devices Scans 
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